55th of Season of Fire, 57th year of the 32nd cycle

  The fourth geyser field came with a realization. It was over. From that point on, the Valley of the Lost would continue to grate at Newt’s nerves. Things had reached their peak, and the only way forward was downhill.

  We have about three to four days left before we leave this place. I can endure it.

  Knowing what was wrong and why would help Newt cope with his dark mood better. At least he hoped it would.

  First! Newt grasped the mist crystal and worked it free from the crack it was lodged in. He had just started working on a new geyser, and he hoped he would find at least a dozen mist crystals inside it. His teammates needed the resources, and making any dent in his debt was better than nothing. It seemed so strange that something as basic frustrated him.

  He turned around to follow the ropes out and brandish his trophy, then encountered a problem. He took a step, then another. Newt should have left the geyser in a single step, yet he had made three and remained trapped inside the scalding torrent.

  He wanted to shout, but could not inside the gushing water, so instead of following the ropes, he moved sideways until he was out of the geyser.

  “Guys!” He gazed at his tethers. They started around his waist, stretching into the mist until they faded away. They seemed dozens of yards long, taut like bowstrings.

  Newt’s skin crawled. The ropes were five yards long, with around ten feet of slack between him and his teammates, so he could move around.

  What’s happening?

  Newt considered the records he read and his personal experiences in the Valley of the Lost, and none explained the strange phenomenon. He dropped Granite Crust and Magmin Scales, and the ropes yanked at his spine. His friends were pulling with all their might, but their strength proved insufficient. Somehow the force dispersed after a moment, but Newt followed the ropes, wandering the mist. For a moment, the pressure against his flanks increased, but then disappeared, and the ropes were no longer stretched tight.

  Newt’s breathing quickened, a panicked habit, rather than an actual bodily need, as he stared at the slack ropes laying on the ground. His head spun, and he felt like he really needed to sit down.

  What’s going on? Newt naturally knew what had happened, he simply refused to accept the reality of his situation.

  His gaze wandered to the rock in his hand, his eyes growing wide.

  The mist is denser. The spongy stone was more or less the same size as the others he had gathered, but instead of oozing, the wisps of pale mist flowed out of every tiny orifice, dancing and mixing with the mist in the air.

  This is probably a fourth realm mist crystal. The thought forced Newt to accept the fact; he had somehow strayed into a higher realm zone.

  Newt crossed his legs and sat, not out of shock, but because he needed to think.

  What now? Why was I able to go through the zone barrier? Is it because I have a shadow or a copy of Magmin’s core? Does the Valley of the Lost recognize it? Will it draw me towards the center? What happens if I move?

  After a moment, more relevant thoughts entered his mind.

  Fourth realm spirit beasts are prowling around. Will someone come here to rescue me? Should I just sit still and wait for Master to come save me? She is bound to arrive at some point, and I could hide in a geyser with next to no chance of spirit beasts finding me.

  Stop! Newt drew a deep breath and exhaled, doing the basic meditative breathing exercises to calm his nerves.

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  If Master arrives, I will probably owe her a reward for her mission to rescue me or something, and the odds are the sect might not even issue the mission. People die on missions. I should rely on myself, but how do I get out of here without a compass? Can I face fourth realm spirit beasts?

  A part of Newt, a very vain part, was certain he could do it. He dispatched most third realm spirit beasts with a single blow, and they no longer proved a challenge. Hopefully, that meant he was ready to fight them.

  Dandelion could fight fourth realm frostworms and slay them with little trouble. I’m not him, but I’m certainly better than the Deeproots. I stand a chance. At least. I hope.

  The considerably larger problem was traveling without a compass. Newt would have no goal, and he might spend days going in circles, or worse, heading into the fifth realm zone, whose denizens he was certain he could not beat.

  He looked around, the geyser was still there, but it was behind his back.

  Where and how did I move for the geyser to be behind me? Was I heading deeper into the fog?

  Slowly but steadily, Newt inched his way towards the geyser. Each step felt wrong, but he reached his objective after nearly half a minute of focusing on his body moving the way he wanted it, and not the way it wanted to go.

  It took so long to cover a handful of yards when going without a guide and against myself.

  Returning to a familiar point felt good, in a sense that Newt had achieved his minor goal, but it was also bad, since the Valley of the Lost resisted his effort. Worse, he was none the wiser about what he should do next.

  First gather the misterium. The fourth realm crystals are valuable enough to clear my debt if I gather enough of them. Even if I don’t, I can significantly reduce it. Next, I should walk with a hand against the barrier between the zones. That should keep me in the outermost part of the layer until I find the exit.

  There was a minor problem, however, Newt had no idea how to find the barrier. It was supposedly impenetrable, but intangible.

  One foot in front of the other. Newt lost sense of time as he gathered thirty-nine fourth realm mist crystals from the geyser. He would have tried for more, but the rushing torrent had grown strong enough for his footing to become unsteady. Newt did not dare take a risk. If the geyser lifted him too high up or launched him into a great distance, he might land atop a spirit beast. While he was confident he could fight them, that assumed neutral circumstances, rather than dropping from up high in front of a dinosaur ready to maul him.

  Thirty-nine is enough.

  Newt withdrew from the water, a small pile of misterium waiting for him. He fit half of them into his food sack, and the rest he placed inside his robe’s various pockets.

  This won’t do, unless this is the only geyser I run into.

  Newt wished to avoid the unpleasant topic, but there was no room for delay, unless he chose to sit down and wait for rescue.

  Where do I go?

  He turned full circle, two thirds of it were undesirable directions, and a third felt just right.

  Yeah, I’m not going there, thanks.

  He turned the other way, and a subconscious part of his mind kept screaming that he was heading into danger, somewhere wrong beyond words. Newt ignored his roiling guts and took a step. It was the first of many on a difficult journey.

  ***

  Sect master Greenthorn sat on the porch of his humble abode in the middle of the island jungle. His eyes were closed, his chest moving in a steady rhythm, which was completely pointless for someone at his realm. It had been centuries upon centuries since the last time he felt hunger, thirst, or the need to breathe.

  But steady, timed breaths helped him focus on his contemplations. The final pieces of his tenth realm needed more time to design and theoretically test than they needed to implement.

  Greenthorn believed his realm a mess. He had no idea how the jumbled ideas and concepts he manifested managed to propel him to his current heights. Tenth realm was the top of the world for most, yet to him, standing at the top, it was an even greater mystery. One he spent ages unraveling. One he hoped his sect’s newest aberrant disciple might help solve.

  Hours passed in quiet contemplation when another anomaly happened.

  The sect master opened his eyes and glanced towards the Valley of the Lost.

  Interesting? Did it recognize his body’s realm rather than his soul’s? Did it consider him a beast? Several scenarios flashed through his mind, but none seemed any more valid than the rest, as such all and none were correct.

  Greenthorn let out the breath he was holding since he had noticed the anomaly.

  This is good. Maybe a challenge will help awaken his past memories. It would be a shame if he died, but such is life and cultivation. If he really is a reincarnation of an ultimate master, someone beyond me, his soul would disperse in shame after a fourth realm beast slays him.

  Greenthorn closed his eyes, focusing on his own problems, but a sliver of his spiritual sense followed Newt, wondering what the boy would do.